Monsoon in Sikkim

There is too much mystery,
the heart skips beats
the hand pelts stones
the foot splashes rain
the green canopy covers
this unstoppable monsoon.

Tall grass mushrooms-
breeding leeches and butterflies,
spreading tentacles to bare feet,
that touch and withdraw
to warm blankets and quilts.

The lethargic mind is poisoned
with guilt,
faced with so much levity.

It rains ceaselessly,
crosses limits with its arrogancy.
(I know the word is fancy!)
There is no pattern
in the sunlight's occasional visits,
no assurance of laundry
drying,
or fresh water subsiding.

A lone pine stands its ground
aloof in its mystery

24/7/12
Rabong